One Glance
by Lady Elena Dawson
Summary: It's Chicago, 1929. Ezra and Aria meet during the Roaring Twenties, when Aria is a sweet ingenue looking for a bit of fun and Ezra is a poetic man searching for his inspiration. One glance, and they knew they were meant for each other. Full of romance, adventure, and crime, the two find themselves living the dream that defined the last summer of the Jazz Age.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here's that story I promised! This is a lengthy chapter, so good luck! And please review!**

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**One Glance**

**By Lady Elena Dawson**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Pretty Little Liars**_**.**

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**Chapter 1**

_Chicago, 1929_

Crawling into bed, Aria sighed heavily in her silk pajamas as the cool sheets rubbed against her legs, making her shiver. After spending an enormous amount of tedious time finishing her homework and spending an hour with her family, she was ready to sleep the night away and wake up to a new day. But that wasn't the case, because as much as she wanted to snore until tomorrow, she also knew of the opportunity that awaited her that night at the Green Mill.

"Good night, sweetheart," Byron Montgomery, Aria's overprotective father, said with an ignorant smile—like he didn't know what she was doing that night, which he _actually_ didn't. Sometimes, though, as she wished him good night as well, she wanted her parents to have an idea of what she was doing up in the early morning, partying the moonlight away. But they had no clue, and it thrilled her as much as it made her stomach scrunch up in guilt.

As soon as her bedroom door clicked and her father's thumping footsteps retreated down the hallway, Aria pounced out of bed and flicked her lights on, stripping away her nightgown and shimmying into a sparkling gold dress expertly folded under her covers. Hastily she pulled her long, dark hair up into a loose bun, adorning it with a golden headband embellished with a shimmery feather. While unlocking her windows and allowing the cool night breeze to flow past her skin, she struggled pulling on her garters, evasively slipping in a flask under the strap for easy access later on. After all, if her plan didn't go over well, she would at least have something down in the comfort of her home instead of in some sleazy, sticky bar.

Though her rounded heels proved that the climb down the trellis would be an uncomfortable feat, she knew that she couldn't pass this offer up. Taking the first precarious step over the windowsill, she managed to grab ahold of the white fence and start her descent to the dewy green grass below.

Eventually, she was able to put one unstable toe on the ground, then the other. At least now, she was allowed to relese the pent-up air inside her. Trotting onto the distant streets that would lead her to the speakeasy, she glanced over her shoulder one last time before officially not looking back.

She was off to chase her dreams.

…

Tapping his pencil impatiently on the blank sheet of paper in front of him, Ezra Fitzgerald found himself especially taut with writer's block that evening. Ever since his first publication, a metaphorical short story about a girl who lost her balloon, he'd had no new ideas pop into his supposedly creative mind. All he had accomplished in the past few weeks was listening to pep talks from his cousin, Francis, whenever he visited from Paris with his wife Zelda and their daughter Scottie. Ezra adored Scottie, who was the inspiration for his first short story that was more for the audience than his pure enjoyment, but most of all, he fantasized about his successful cousin. For someone to marry a person who was the motivation of their writing—Ezra needed one of those.

Scooting around in his chair to his dusty bookshelf, Ezra pulled out of copy of his cousin's book of short stories: _Tales of the Jazz Age _by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Ever since they were younger, and he was a teen while Ezra was a child, Ezra enjoyed tremendously the stories his cousin brought to the page. Flipping it open, he came across one of his favorites, titled _The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. _But after reading the first paragraph for the hundredth time, Ezra came to the conclusion that rereading Francis's works weren't going to inspire him like they did when he still lived in Minnesota and longed to move to the city.

With his soul crushed, Ezra rolled back around to his desk and grabbed for the unopened letter that had been staring at him for a while. It was addressed to his Chicago apartment from Paris, France. Ripping open the seal, Ezra hungrily scanned its contents, relief spreading over him when he was certain that it was from his supportive cousin all the way across the Atlantic Ocean.

_Dear cousin, _it said. _I wish I could help you give the inspiration you need, but sadly, I cannot. Your ideas must be that—your ideas, not mine. But I can tell you that your first published work is well structured and well written; a great start, may I say._

_Little Scottie is doing well, but I worry about Zelda. Lately she's been so paranoid and jumpy, I question if something is arising. I try to write as much as I can here in the City of Love, but I don't think I'll be able to write anything as motivating as when I came with _The Great Gatsby _a few years ago. _

_I apologize that this letter is so short, but I couldn't find the time to write it. I hope that you'll be able to reach into your mind and pull out an idea that you can slap onto a page, but until then, good luck. _

_F. Scott Fitzgerald_

_P.S. Hemingway has asked me to bid you hello._

Defeated, Ezra felt all the air deflate from his anticipated lungs. There has been nothing in that letter of value, only a blab of praise and sympathy that Ezra had been receiving since he acknowledged his writer's block.

With nothing else to do, Ezra came up with the conclusion that he had to go do something very important: He had to go get a drink.

…

The ten minute walk from her house to the hidden speakeasy took Aria longer than it should have, for the city was so different at night. Many times she feared a lone man in the street, praying that he didn't bother her like some did, and also wishing that she had a beau that would escort her to these kinds of things, but of course that would ruin her surprise.

For a few months now, Aria had been attending the Green Mill as a regular customer, always chatting with the same people until they became good friends. There she had met a couple of girls from her private school on the cusp of the city: Hanna Marin, Spencer Hastings, and Emily Fields. They were all raised in conservative families like Aria's own, and they all had the same aspirations to be different from the homogenous mix of girls from the academy. Still, though, none of them found the will to chop off their locks and go down the daring route of the flapper _just _yet.

"I'm sorry I'm late!" Aria panted when she saw the three shadows whispering in the distance of the dark alleyway. "My father wouldn't let me to go to bed until I finished my homework, and then he tried to strike up a conversation with me about Noel Kahn—"

"You mean _the _Noel Kahn? _The_ son of that oil tycoon?" Hanna interrupted, gasping in succession.

Aria rolled her eyes and sent Hanna's ice-blue eyes a sharp look. "Yes, but you all know how I feel about him. I gave him a chance, and once you get to know him, he's a real jerk. Thinks he's such a bimbo until you realize he's a coward who only cares about the cash…"

"We all thought he was the berries," Spencer snorted, agreeing with Aria. "As soon as Aria told him to beat it, he started hitting on me, asking if I wanted to go on a blind date with him since it's 'all the craze.' But then I had to set his mind straight and say that there was no purpose to go on a _blind _date because I knew he _was _my date."

"He's such a snob," Emily added what was already known. "And he thinks he knows it all."

Before the conversation of the gorgeous bachelor could escalate, Aria butted in. "Aren't we here for another reason?"

Hanna gasped in revelation. "Oh, yes!" She then shooed Spencer and Emily to the back doors that led to the basement of some building. "This conversation can wait! We need to get Aria prepped and ready for her big night!"

Suddenly, Aria was surrounded by her group of squealing friends, all pushing her along and down the spiral staircase until they reached the dressing room, frantic as they fixed her makeup and hair while they talked fondly of the Green Mill's boss for letting her have a chance.

"You'll do great, honey, you always do!" Hanna soothed her friend's shaky nerves when Aria voiced her anxiety.

"We've all heard you, and you're amazing," Emily piped up as she let the makeup brush covered in pink powder swipe across Aria's cheek.

"Just think of what the boss will say when the night's over," Spencer chimed in while pinning a loose piece of hair off Aria's face. "'That was the best performance I've seen in a while, doll. I'll call you next week!'"

The four friends giggled at Spencer's spot-on interpretation of Mr. Sparks. When they were finished with their rapid makeover, Aria stared at herself in the mirror—she was absolutely glowing. As nervous as she was, she knew that tonight was going to be an incredible night.

"I can do this," Aria pepped herself as she took a deep breath. There were only a few minutes until show time, and the clock kept ticking.

"Atta girl!" Hanna praised, the three of them shoving Aria out of the dressing room door and wishing her good luck.

The lights of the stage blinded her as she took the first step on, the black band smiling approvingly at her as the piano player announced her name. When the music started and the large crowd watched her, she glanced at her smiling, waving friends in the corner before opening her pretty mouth and allowing the music to sweep her away.

…

Out of all the nights for Ezra to choose, this one just had to be packed to the rim. Apparently, there was a new ingénue whom everyone in town heard was going to be spontaneous, or so his friend Hardy recalled to him as they entered the shady bar. No one was on stage yet, and Ezra took that as his chance to down a couple of drinks before letting the jazzy melodies lull him to numbness. It was yet another night of heavy drinking for Ezra Fitz.

After downing his first scotch, he almost choked on the last gulp of it when Hardy, unsuspected, pounded him in the shoulder. "Boy, Ezra, you've gotta see this one!" he hooted as everyone erupted in cheers for the young singer. But Ezra kept his melancholic gaze on the shiny counter, barely paying attention, unlike he had hoped, as the first few measures of the song were played out by the band.

In a split second, though, a numbness that was different than any one he'd had before washed over him, and his eyes widened as his body froze still. Her voice… It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. And he recognized with that voice a sense of passion and kindness that must come with an equally pleasing face.

Slowly he turned around in his seat, half hoping that his ears and eyes were deceiving him. Yet, there she was, the lights catching on her golden sequins that were topped with a neck of pearls, and a heart-shaped face adorned with the prettiest round eyes and fullest pink lips. Right then, a strong urge told him that he needed to know the color of those round orbs, for the sake of his sanity.

When she finished the first song, a roar of applause exploded in the Green Mill, and a warm, glowing smile that showed a row of straight, white teeth made Ezra's stomach and mouth drop. Being the only one in the crowd not clapping or whistling, her gorgeous eyes fell on him, and one corner of her already smiling mouth turned up even more, leaving a dimple in her cheek.

Though the audience cried for an encore, the woman was only promised one song for now, to keep the stream of people coming so they could listen to her again—and maybe bring along some friends. Watching her strut offstage and be mobbed by a group of flappers and men alike, Ezra was snapped out of his gaudy daze by Hardy.

"Hey, buddy," his friend said, slightly confused. "Are you all right?"

"I have to know her," Ezra sputtered, more to himself than anyone else. "I have to speak with her."

But before Hardy could answer, his friend had already bolted out of his seat and shoved through the crowd of excited chatter for the new vocalist, disappearing down the hallway she had gone down.

…

"You were _fabulous_," Hanna gushed as Aria, to shake off her previous jitters, stormed into the dressing room.

"Absolutely _divine_," Spencer agreed.

Emily hopped in, too. "Yes, absolutely _ravishing_."

Aria studied her friends through the mirror as she checked her hair for any loose strands. They were smiling happily for her, small tears in their eyes; they all knew that this was her dream. "Thank you," Aria whispered in a warm voice. "For everything."

After they chatted for a few minutes longer, Aria urged them to go out and have fun, staying behind for an extra minute to give herself a short pep talk before meeting her praise.

Opening the door, she gasped as she was met by a tall man with curly black hair, and she recognized him as the person sitting at the bar who was staring at her speechlessly. "Oh, hello," Aria said politely, though her heart pounded.

A boyish smile dominated his features, and the nerves Aria possessed melted away until she noticed his eyes were a dashing blue.

That's when she knew she wanted—no, _needed_—to know more about him, no matter what the cost.

…

Staring into the eyes he so obsessively needed to see up close, his heart skipped a beat when he identified the warm mix of color: hazel. Satisfied, he gave her his arm as a rush of courage swept over him. "I watched you sing up on that stage." Sweetly she took his arm, and again the thumping in his chest that kept him alive hopped. "You were wonderful," he commented while they entered the steamy room that stank of sweat and alcohol.

The corners of her lips turned up into a grin, which made his stomach flutter, and simply replied, "Thank you."

Once Ezra realized he was staring, he stopped himself and chuckled nervously. He gestured towards the bar. "Here, let me buy you a drink."

Just as Aria was about to accept his offer, a voice exclaimed, "Smile!" The couple jumped and flung around to acknowledge the photographer, who had a chunky camera in his hands.

Instinctually, Ezra put on his signature smile and wrapped his arm around the petite girl's waist, and she followed along with him. The camera flashed and the photo popped out, the man stuffing it into his pocket as Ezra turned his attention back to the drink he promised. However, Aria's grip tightened on his sleeve, and when he saw her pale, sick face, he was instantly worried. "What's wrong?"

"That photo can't go in the papers!" she cried out, biting fearfully on her bottom lip. "My parents don't know that I've been coming here!"

Ezra, being the gentleman he was, pushed through the crowd and tapped on the photographer's shoulder, and returned to the pretty singer twenty five cents shorter. "Here," he said with a smile as he handed it to her, their glowing faces making the photo entrancing. "Take it."

"No," she refused, letting out a small laugh. Her hand reached out and pushed Ezra's arm away from her. "You can have it… I don't need it."

A silence encased the twosome, and Ezra watched as her eyes roamed the whole place until landing on him again.

"I want to know more about you," he blurted out before he could contain himself, her eyes having triggered his reflexes—not that he regretted what he said.

And that same smile that made him feel all gooey inside adorned her lips. "Yeah?" she said as he nodded eagerly. "I want to know more about you, too."

That's how the two found themselves in the bathrooms, and though it stank sickly of vomit and the counters were gross, Aria allowed him to pick her up and place her next to the sink, her legs wrapping around his waist as they kissed and sparks flew.

It was more like fireworks. Once his lips met hers in a soft gesture, she hungered for more, and they didn't stop for what felt like a long while. Eventually Aria pulled away and stared into his mesmerizing eyes, biting down on her bottom lip. "What's your name?" she asked.

That same boyish smile that made her heart stop appeared on his handsome face. "Ezra Fitzgerald," he said in a hoarse voice.

"I like that name," Aria whispered, blushing slightly. "It's…different."

At her compliment, Ezra no longer disliked his crowned label; maybe she hadn't heard of his cousin. "And yours?"

"Aria Montgomery."

Of course, it was a beautiful title to fit a beautiful woman, but Ezra didn't say that out loud. "Aria," he repeated it instead. "That's unique." And it certainly was.

Leaning forward to kiss again, Hanna's voice rung out as she came fleeing into the bathrooms. "Aria!" she cried, sighing in relief when she found her. "We have to go now."

Barely acknowledging Ezra, Hanna ran up and yanked Aria down from the bathroom counter, who was sending Ezra a longing, apologetic look. "I'm sorry," she murmured as she was dragged away, and Ezra was too dumbfounded to take her into his arms and kiss her good-bye. "But I have to go!"

After she disappeared around the corner, Ezra shook himself out of his trance and realized that he had been holding something in his hand. Looking down, it was the picture that had been taken before they really knew each other—and did they really now?

Stuffing it along with his hands in his pockets, he slowly strolled out of the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, all the while picturing Aria's face. "Aria…," he reiterated, loving how it smoothly flew off his tongue.

Maybe he had found his inspiration after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I know I was supposed to update "Scandalous" today, but I was more in the mood to continue this story, which I haven't touched in weeks. And trust me, it'll be getting juicier!**

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**Chapter 2**

"And I told Robert that everything has been planned and to make sure that Noel will come along for at least an hour," Ella Montgomery, Aria's iron-rod-of-a-back mother, explained expressively the next morning at breakfast.

Aria groaned. When she picked up her fork, all she felt was the blood pounding in her head. She barely remembered last night, other than the exhilaration she felt when she was on stage and the sparks she experienced with that cute boy, Ezra.

Frozen, Ella stared at her daughter as though she had wiped her nose with her sleeve. "Is something the matter?"

"Yes," Aria wanted to say. "I'm hung-over, the weekend's over, and all you can talk about is Noel Kahn." But instead she straightened herself up as though she was fine and replied, "No, I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

This time, Byron spoke up. "But you went to bed so early last night, sweetheart."

"I tossed and turned," Aria further lied. God, she never told her parents the truth.

Thankfully, the topic changed. "Is anything interesting happening in school today?" Ella mused. Of course, the only reason Aria was going to school at all instead of staying home with a governess was because more men these days found it appealing for women to be strictly educated out of the house. And then, if Aria wasn't married by the time she was nineteen, she'd most likely be sent off to college to do the old-fashioned thing: meet boys to marry.

"Oh," Aria piped up, remembering something. "Yes, I think that author who published that book a while ago—oh, what was it called? The one about the rich man and woman who were in love, but then she just left him?"

She was answered with unknowledgeable stares and blinks. Sighing, she added more. "You know, not all that glitters is gold? She was a flake? He looked at people as though they were possessions?"

"Oh, I think I've read that one," chimed Ella. "Wasn't it _The Great Gatsby_?"

"Yes!" Aria exclaimed. She couldn't understand why her parents didn't find literature interesting, and she always played around with them to test if they ever listened to her recommendations. "The author is coming in today, I believe."

"That sounds interesting," muttered Byron boringly, now skimming the newspaper.

"Not at the table, Byron," snapped Ella.

Aria glanced around at the dining room table, pondering if her life was always going to be like this. Would she marry someone as boring as her father and become an intolerable woman like her mother? Maybe she'd still be sitting at this exact same table, glaring at her kids across the massive amounts of food as she scolded them and told them exactly how they were to live their life.

"So, Noel Kahn is coming to your party," Ella spoke up, and Aria had to fight the urge to stab herself with her fork. Somehow, for some reason, the conversation always leaned back to the Kahns and their bachelor son. "Are you excited?"

It was nearing the end of Aria's senior year, and her eighteenth birthday was in a month. She always detested her birthday because it sometimes fell on Easter, and her presents were always something Jesus-related. Only once did she ever receive something childish and cute: a stuffed animal when she was eight.

But Ella Montgomery was using Aria's birthday as a chance to set her up with the finest families, even if some of the sons were years ahead of her. Once, her mother fawned over Joseph Hackett, a man almost twenty years older. Aria had wanted to barf—after all, she was receiving this news through her thirteen-year-old ears—and force herself to jump for joy at the same time. For a while she tried to be like the other girls at school—obsequious, agreeable, and never fussy—but she eventually realized she couldn't talk herself out of her morals or her personality; she believed in love, unlike her family and the teenage girls surrounding her.

"Great," Aria sputtered through her clenched jaw. Next to her, her brother Mike whistled. "Yup, you sound _so_ excited," he said sarcastically.

Suddenly, Aria felt the urge to breathe air that wasn't already contaminated with her family's conservative oxygen. "I think I'll walk from here," she said quickly while jumping off her seat and skittering to the door, bag in hand. "It's not that far anyway," she added last minute before slamming the door, despite the fact that it'll take her twenty minutes to get to the private school.

As Aria strolled down the sidewalk, the sun rising in the distance, she tried not to let her feelings of entrapment bother her. Instead, she brought back the memories from last night, of Ezra—and how she couldn't wait to see him again.

…

"Oh my God, you cut your hair!" Hanna gasped as Spencer and Emily gaped.

Just at that moment, Aria turned the corner and saw what her friends were so shocked about. "I'm surprised you didn't cut yours first, Aria." The seductive blonde smirked. "I thought you were so into the flapper thing."

Alison DiLaurentis was a well-known student here at the private school, and also happened to have Aria, Spencer, Hanna, and Emily wrapped around her finger. Honestly, Aria had no idea why she let manipulative Ali push her around, but she was always there when Aria needed her. But lately, she just used everything Aria said against her.

Last month, when Noel made the moves on Aria at some fête, Aria uncomfortably shrugged him off. "I don't want to marry him," she later complained to Alison, tears pouring out of her eyes. "He's always _leering _at me like he's going to do something awful."

Later that day, Aria and Alison listened to Ella fawn about Noel and her daughter to the Kahns. "Aria fancies Noel just as much as he does her," she proclaimed proudly, and the Kahns nodded in agreement at the fine match.

"Actually, if Aria had the chance, she'd execute him," Alison piped up, sending Aria's jaw to the ground. "_Alison_," she had hissed, tugging forcefully on her sleeve jacket as the adults sputtered confusedly. "What are you _doing_?" Then she turned to the parents and forced herself to smile convincingly. "She's only kidding. I really like Noel."

Now, Aria gave Alison a twisted grin. "You look stunning, Alison. A bob really suits you."

"Thanks," she sneered, raising her head up high. "I look like a movie star, don't you think?"

The girls rapidly nodded in agreement. No one went against Ali, except Spencer sometimes, and Aria, too, if she felt like it was necessary.

The bell rang signaling the girls to file into class. As the five swept into English, they were met by a handsome stranger at the door. But Aria was so tiny, she was shoved inside the room by her friends before she could get a good look at him.

"Mr. Fitzgerald was unable to make it today," Mrs. Clark, the English teacher, announced as giggles died down and people scrambled to their seats. "Instead, I'd like to introduce you to his brother, Mr. Ezra Fitzgerald."

Aria was in the process of getting out her copy of _The Great Gatsby _for the author to sign—disappointedly, he wasn't here—when her brain comprehended what Mrs. Clark just said. Ezra…as in _her _Ezra from last night?

Gulping, she dared herself to peek around Spencer's head, a breath catching in her throat when she saw the same chiseled features, black curls, and haunting blue eyes. "It's a pleasure to be here," he said while hiding his discomfort.

Then his eyes landed on her, and the world just halted.

…

Aria was ashamed. He was never supposed to know she was still in high school!

As much as she was attracted to this man, she convinced herself to believe that it would only be a small fling, not something she was unused to. There were many times when she'd met some cute stranger at a speakeasy, chatted it up, pecked him on the lips, then never saw him again. But maybe this was something else—something like _destiny._

Ezra opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a struggle with words. He couldn't talk himself out of this one, so instead he just started. "My brother's in Paris right now, but I'm a writer as well." His eyes fell on Aria, and he wished he could just ignore her—if only she wasn't smack dab in the middle of the room.

Alison whirled around and smirked at Aria. "Did you sleep with the writer?" she whispered, but the people around her were able to hear exactly what she said, and a small eruption of giggles ensued. Aria's face flushed a ghostly pale, and she looked like she was going to be sick.

Hanna recognized the guy from last night, too, and uneasily looked at Aria, who sat right next to her. "Is that the guy from—"

"Yeah," Aria croaked, gulping. Mrs. Clark sent them glares from her desk as Ezra—Mr. Fitzgerald—kept speaking, though Aria was barely paying attention anymore.

When the bell rang and everyone started filing out, Aria's heart was fluttering. Mrs. Clark had left the room, and it was just Ezra. Maybe she could talk to him real quick—

"Aria."

But it wasn't Ezra.

Alison had pulled aside the other girls who looked deathly afraid, and Alison's face was cold and hard as stone. As Aria reluctantly stepped towards Alison, she felt slapped by her next words. "Why didn't you tell me your big debut was last night?" she asked in her frigid voice.

"Last week you said you already had plans with some boy," Aria squeaked, glancing over her shoulder to see Ezra concentrating on a small sheet of paper he had in his hands. His eyes flicked up from whatever he was holding and caught her gaze, but she whipped her head back around quickly.

Alison was smirking her famous devil's smile, as Aria called it, which made Aria extremely nervous. "You've got the hots for Mr. Writer?" she cooed, her blue eyes crinkling. "I bet I can convince him to switch sides."

Aria's face pinched up as Alison said those words. Of course, Alison never really meant what she said, but for whatever reason she wasn't kidding today. Sidling up to Ezra, she flirtatiously leaned on the desk as Aria watched helplessly, Hanna putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Your speech was divine," Alison purred, and she purposefully looked at Aria as Ezra's face flushed pink. He glanced at where Alison was looking and saw Aria and three other girls filing out of the room, those hazel eyes he'd fallen in love with last night desperately pleading for him to wait for her. "I really liked that quote at the end. Who said it again? Socrates?"

In a second of realization, Ezra straightened his back and stood up. "Yes, someone like that," he replied, and Alison's lips parted in a surprised O. With that, he left the room.

Silently fuming, Alison stood there, wondering how he could have known her intentions. She was about to storm out when she noticed he'd left the paper he was so passionately staring at on the desk. Picking it up with her dainty fingers, her jealousy only increased and almost boiled over.

It was a picture of Aria, all dressed up for her debut—and there was Ezra with his hand suggestively on her waist right next to her. Grinning mischievously, Alison pocketed it and nonchalantly flew out of the classroom.

…

When Alison rounded the corner to her next class, she was bombarded by a short stack of fury. "How could you?" Aria spat as they continued walking down the hall together. "You've been nothing but mean to me, Alison. Did I do something to offend you?" When Alison only kept walking, Aria stomped in front of her so that she had to stop. "Because I _really _don't need that from you!" Lips quivering, she wiped her eyes. "You're supposed to be my _friend_."

Alison scoffed and waved Aria aside, and they started at a slow pace to class. "Cool down, Aria. I didn't think you cared that much. Didn't you just meet him last night?"

"How would you know that?" Aria pouted, annoyed.

"Some men are messy cleaners." And she pulled the photo out of her pocket and handed it to Aria.

At first, Aria was surprised that Ezra kept it. Then her heart sank. "Where did you get this?"

"I found it when I almost pawed that guy's shirt off." She leaned forward so that Aria could smell her minty breath and dropped her voice. "Nice choice, Ar. He's a _really _good kisser."

With that, Alison strutted off, leaving Aria with her mouth agape. Shaking her head, her lips tightened into a straight line. Alison _always _exaggerated; no way would anyone be allowed to display affection like that without getting caught by someone passing by the door.

Then again, it was Alison—and no one reported Alison. Even some of the teachers were afraid of her.

Sighing, Aria pushed her hair behind her ear and smiled weakly as she glanced down at the picture in her hands. Ezra appeared so charming, so _trustworthy. _And she looked so happy.

At first, all she wanted to do was rip it up and dump it into the nearest trashcan. But instead she found herself shoving it in her bag, not really knowing why, and heading to class.

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**Thanks for reading! And note: reviews make my day!**


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